Starla Drabbles
by Wowtsw
Summary: A series of quick Starla drabble. I take requests! Rated T for adult themes. Rating may go up. STANLEY PINES X CARLA MCCORKLE
1. Birthmark Carla

**Author's Note: A gift for Thewittyarsonist. I'm starting a series of various Starla AU drabbles to pass the time. These first few are a little rusty and short because I haven't written in a few weeks, life has gotten in the way. I do take requests, so be sure to leave a response or a PM. Gravity falls belongs to Alex Hirsch. PLEASE, tell me if there's a grammatical or spelling error. Thank you, and enjoy.**

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 **Birthmark!Carla**

 **Third Person's point of view**

Hands pocketed deep in his worn, soaked jeans, he made due with the only source of heat available. Sporting a sleeveless white tee, he paid no mind to the storm, focusing on the rain-slicked road ahead. Her comfort a higher priority than his own, he slung his leather jacket over her shoulders, the size overwhelming her petite frame, shielding her from the furious weather.

Footfalls purposeful with a spring in his step, he couldn't help the small smile. Though their evening stroll along the beachfront didn't turn out well, he enjoyed her company regardless especially following another day with condescending teachers and failing tests. Rain and sweat matted his brown hair, giving him a ragged look, his tee see-through and sticking to his chest.

Mascara and lipstick smearing, to others she looked like a rag doll, but to him, she always looked beautiful in his eyes. They trudged forward, embracing the sheets of unyielding water, the water's patter reverberating off the pavement. The brush of her fingertips against his tinted his cheeks, her skin soft against his calloused hand. Hands intertwined, she peaked up at him through her sopping fizzy hair, her brown eyes electric. He couldn't take it anymore.

He took her shoulders in a firm grip, pecking her lips, though swift and fleeting, the feeling still lingered on his skin. Face aflame, he bowed his head, embarrassed by his brash behavior. He mentally kicked himself until a soft thumb and finger tilted his head back up.

Before he knew it, their lips locked again, the kiss a lot firmer and confident. Blinking twice, he hummed into the wet kiss; his hands wound their way around his waist, his face between her hands. Pulling away first, he pushed the hair from her forehead, revealing the red, puffy dots and pimples making up her Dipper shaped birthmark.

"S-Stanley..." She stuttered, lips pursing in apprehension, self-conscious of the birthmark hidden well under her curly bangs.

"Beautiful..." He murmured, peaking her forehead, than her nose, than her eye,

Her fearful grimace turned into that stunning smile of hers, her giggles rising an octave. Balling her fists in the sopping fabric of his tee, she pecked him on the lips. Twining their hands together, continuing their breach front stroll.

 **End**


	2. Grauntie Carla

_**Author Note:** Told you guys I'll continue_

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 **Grauntie!Carla AU**

 **Stanley's Point of View**

It was a slow day at the shack. I wore the best of the best cologne, a few buttons on my collared shirt undo, my gold chain shimmering in the late afternoon sun. A little too much to drink, I leaned my hand heavily on the coffee-table, knocking over a picture frame before making my way toward the other side of living room. Cheeks tinted by aged wine, the edge of the wineglass muffled her chuckles, my graceful maneuvering an entertaining show from her slouched position on the sofa.

I held the vintage record in hand, Best of The Beach Boys, her favorite album from her childhood I remember. Pulling the needle over the vinyl, hearings crinkling scratch before the beginning harmony of Barbara Ann Kicked in. Head bobbing lazily to the music, I mouthed a few of the words before turning on my heel, facing the woman on the couch again.

Taking her hand in mine, I lifted her off the couch, not caring if the content of her wineglass sloshed on the couch. Fingers intertwining now, I held her by the small of her back, swaying back and forth. Chest to chest, we moved lazily together, to the beat of a whole another tune, our movements clumsy and unflattering. Laughing at each mistake, our rusty choreography consisted of awkward twirls, switching tempos and inconsistent style; I would regret the body strain in the morning.

Foreheads pressed heads, both arms found their way around waist and hers circling around my neck. Bowing her head, she hid that smile of hers, resting her cheek against my chest. Chuckling, I wasn't having it.

With a cheeky grin, I lifted her chin with my thumb and finger, her faces inches from mine. My gaze fluttering between her large brown eyes and her parted lips, I felt a stirring, an urge to do a little more than dancing. Chuckling under my breath, I ducked forward, feathering a kiss along her cheekbone then curve of her jaw, drawing a hum of content.

Whining at my tickling lips, her hands fisted in the fabric of my suit, her head tilting back, giving me better access to her neck. I grinned against her skin, gazing up at her flushed face and hanging mouth before biting down hard, earning a surprised yelp, halfway between a moan and gasp.

 **End**


	3. More Grauntie Carla

**Author's note:** I love the Grauntie Carla Au, enjoy!

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 **Another Grauntie!Carla AU**

He tumbled through the door around midnight, grunting and cursing under his bated breath, a large duffle bag under his arm. I felt Alex stir in my arms, the toddler's breath hitching at the commotion, before evening out again.

I cradled him within the thick comforter, laying him down on the bed before leaning over to flick on the lamp, painting the room in a dingy orange. Untucking my feet from beneath me before making my way to the foot of the bed, my gaze worried over his hunched demeanor. He leaned heavily on the wall, hissing through his teeth before trying to wobbly make his way to the bathroom.

"Stanley…" I murmured quietly, catching him by the cuff of his jacket, tugging down to my level, the bed dipping under his weight. He avoided my gaze, his eyes glued to the floor. I caressed his cheek, forcing him to face me. Dotting fingers tranced along his bruised cheekbone, noting all the bruises and cuts, fresh or faded that marred his skin, my stomach twisting in disgust and heartache. I hated seeing him in pain, although he kept an at ease demeanor, the marks that littered his body gave away the hell he faced daily. A fresh fleet of tears rimming my bottom lashes at every flinch he made; I chewed my inner cheek to keep my composure in check.

He looked rugged and tired; the bags under his eyes looked frightening. Hanging my head, I buried my head in the curve of his neck, tears drenching the collar of his work shirt, the trembling arms winding around waist offering little comfort. The fifth time this month he came home tattered and broken. Bending his head low, the rough whiskers on his chin tickling my earlobe, his voice a drawled and husky as he murmured the same lie through his teeth,

"'m fine Carla, it's nothing-"

"Don't."

 **End**


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